


Chess Pieces

by esteefee



Series: Chess [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's side of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chess Pieces

The evening after Rodney lost his shit and punched him in the mess hall, John woke up with a swollen eye, a sore cheek, and Rodney's face mashed up against his armpit.

So—a win, really.

He knew Rodney was still angry about the suicide jumper mission, but apparently the kissing had helped. It was new, fun, different, kissing Rodney; or, more specifically, being kissed by him, because it turned out Rodney was a no-holds-barred kind of kisser and sort of took over the lip interactions they'd had.

John didn't mind. There was nothing at all he minded about discovering Rodney wanted him that way, with the exception of not having learned it until too recently. John had never kissed a guy before Rodney, but he'd done another thing or two, in desperate times, once in a supply tent and, on one memorable occasion, in the back of a cargo transport with a division of marines sleeping not fifteen feet away in the passenger hold.

That was a particularly good memory, even if John had come way too fast almost in sheer panic at the possibility of being discovered.

After that came the black mark, and a one-way ticket to Antarctica, and John hadn't had real sex for longer than he could remember. He'd never missed it that much, anyway—real sex, with women, was never very good, and involved a lot of unnecessary touching, to his mind, and talking, which was worse.

So, earlier, when Rodney broke down and slammed him against a wall and kissed him, John remembered feeling grateful that at least there wasn't a lot of talking involved. But then Rodney started freaking, and it became about calming him down and feeling guilty that he hadn't realized how much Rodney cared, if that was why Rodney was so upset. It could be. Rodney seemed really overwhelmed at the thought of losing him.

Weird, to have someone feel that way about him. He'd always been pretty expendable in the grand scheme of things, starting when his mother died and his father sent him off to prep school soon afterward. John's little rebellion of joining the Air Force earned him a lot of anger, but none of it was about the possibility of losing John as a war casualty; it was much more about losing a son to a low class profession.

But Rodney had been terrified. So scared he'd actually hit John.

It was something to think about.

:::

John was still mulling it over when Rodney snuffled once, murmured something incomprehensible, and then jerked awake, stabbing John in the solar plexus with his elbow in the process.

"Ouch," John said mildly, and Rodney reared up to rub his eyes, his expression crumpled and fierce.

"You. Oh, you," Rodney said, and then, to John's relief, Rodney's face broke into a twisted half smile. "We're in bed."

"We're in bed," John agreed.

"With each other."

John smirked. Apparently Rodney was a bit stupid after waking up, which was good to know, and more than a little amusing. John bent over and kissed Rodney once on the lips, just a quick, dry press, before rolling off the bed onto his feet.

"Not anymore," he said, grinning at Rodney's stunned reaction. "C'mon, we'll be late for dinner. And I want to show off my shiner."

"Crap," Rodney said, dropping his head into his hands. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows braced, looking miserable. "I did that."

"Everyone will be impressed by your macho," John reassured him.

"Everyone will think I'm an asshole. Here you are, the hero of Atlantis—"

"Of the galaxy, pretty much, don't you think—?"

"And I start a fight with you, for no apparent reason, in front of everyone."

"It was more like a sucker-punch, actually."

"Great. That makes it _much_ better."

"You went three-eyed alien banana bugshit on me." John grinned. "Funny thing is, I didn't even see it coming." Rodney's head jerked up at the reminder from earlier that day. Of the kissing and the more kissing and Rodney pressed up against him, shoving him into the wall so solidly that John's spine had been mashed straight.

Good times.

"I'm sorry. Really, Major—it wasn't terribly fair of me, even though I still think you're an idiot for throwing your life away like that, like it didn't mean anything—"

John felt himself stiffen, and Rodney's mouth closed with a snap.

"I know exactly what it meant," John said carefully, trying for easy but falling way short.

"Forgive me, Major, but, no, I really think you don't," Rodney said bitterly, getting to his feet. "Or, at least then you didn't. We had this conversation already. You said you deserved it—" Rodney waved vaguely at John's face.

"I deserved it for not understanding what you were going through, yeah." John shrugged. "But not for doing it. There wasn't any time, Rodney."

"You could have—"

"No _time_ , Rodney. No time to find another gene carrier pilot. No time to convince someone else to take a one-way trip. Two hive ships, Wraith in the city, in _my_ city, and no fucking _time_ —"

Rodney's face was all twisted up like John was hurting him.

"Look, I'm sorry because now I get it, okay? I know it would have—" John looked away, "—upset you, or something, maybe. It wouldn't have been your fault, anyway, but maybe if I explained that before I left—"

"God, you're such a moron."

"Yeah, okay." John took a deep breath and looked back. "But I still can beat you at chess."

That got him a little smirk of disgust. "So, you can sometimes be a good strategist; that doesn't mean you're smart, _per se_ —"

"Rodney." John made himself take a couple of steps closer, because Rodney was jittering again, with that same overwhelmed look from earlier. And fixing it was John's responsibility now, if they were going to have something between them. "I'm a very good strategist. That's how I knew the trade-off was worth it. I _don't_ think I'm expendable—I'm not a pawn. I'm a bishop, maybe," John smiled, "or a rook."

Rodney was shaking his head. He started to back away, and John reached out and gripped his shoulder.

"I don't mind being the rook," John said. "Not if I can protect the king." Because Rodney was the king, even if he didn't know it.

Rodney would have stayed until the end. He would never have evac'd, John knew it. And Atlantis was the game, and John couldn't see it lost—couldn't see them both lost.

"Chess pieces," Rodney said with disgust. "You really think in those terms? Because I may be a cold-hearted scientist with logic on the _brain_ , but even I know there's more to it than that."

As gently as he could, John said. "There isn't. Not here. Not with what we're up against." He saw the words hit like stones thrown into a pond, and Rodney's face crumpled, then smoothed.

"Anyway, I think you're at least a queen," he said with forced humor.

John raised his eyebrow but didn't take the bait, waiting. While he watched Rodney muddle it through, he found that same strange sense of peace coupled with dread he'd felt at the controls of the jumper watching the hive ship grow in the front port. He'd been primarily concerned at the time with keeping his voice calm and smooth while speaking into the comm. His last words would be simple data voiced with military precision—no hints of emotion to leave his listeners with reason to regret. His gift, he'd thought, to them, the survivors.

But now he knew he'd made a tactical error with his careless _so long, Rodney_ , voiced as he swung out of the command chair. Rodney would have needed more than that. Rodney deserved more than that, and if John was terrible at giving it to him, he'd just have to try harder.

Maybe he could try to say it now. While there was plenty of time.

"I should have said goodbye properly," John said, and there was nothing even or smooth about his voice right now. "I should have told you—" John pulled in a breath through the tightness in his throat, "—that you were the reason I'd regret leaving the most. But you were also—you were the best reason to do it at all."

"Oh," Rodney said in a small voice.

"Okay?" John rubbed his hands together, trying to brush off the shaky feeling.

"Not okay," Rodney said slowly, "but I guess it has to be."

They stood in silence for a long moment, John's discomfort growing, until Rodney shook his head and said rapidly, "Can we at least have incredible sex? Before the situation comes up again, I mean, which you know it will because—hey, this is Pegasus we're talking about."

John laughed involuntarily, and Rodney tilted his head.

"You have a really dirty laugh, you know that?"

John shook his head, still chuckling.

"Even when it's just a stupid knock-knock joke or something, you sound like it's the dirtiest thing you've ever heard."

John's laughter was spiraling out of control, and Rodney was smiling now, and pushing him toward the bed.

"You want to hear my favorite joke ever?" he said, his hands yanking off John's shirt.

John shook his head and unbuttoned his pants.

Rodney pulled off his own T-shirt. "Two muffins are baking in the oven. The one muffin turns to the other one and says, 'Wow, it's really hot in here.'"

John's pants and boxers slid off his hips, and he fell to the mattress.

"The second muffin looks back at the first one and says, 'Whoa! It's a talking muffin.'"

John doubled over laughing, nearly whacking his head against Rodney's bare hip as he knelt down onto the bed. Then Rodney's mouth came down hard against his, and John's laughter shut off in favor of kissing Rodney back.

"That is the stupidest joke ever," John said breathlessly. Rodney's hand was on his cock— _Christ_ , it had been way too long since anyone had touched him there. His back arched and he shoved up into Rodney's fist.

"It's the _best_ joke ever," Rodney said, his voice light. "You just have a terrible sense of humor."

John nodded in agreement, because right then Rodney was lowering his mouth to take him in, and John would have agreed to a court-martial and a public whipping if Rodney would just keep— _God Almighty_ —sucking his cock like that, tonguing the head and pulling him into the wet, greedy heat of his mouth.

And as John shuddered and came, he thought maybe he might be the queen, after all. At least Rodney really seemed to think so.

Maybe John could believe it, too.

 

 _End._  



End file.
